


Three Digits

by thesoundofnat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Birthday, Lazy Mornings, M/M, happy 100th birthday bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: Bucky begins his 100th birthday in bed with Steve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 100th birthday, Bucky Bear.

Bucky was the first one to wake up, and for a moment, as his eyes got used to the brightness of the room - they’d forgotten to close the blinds the previous night - he felt as if it was just a normal day. Just a regular March day. He’d been through a lot of those, and he never noticed any apparent difference unless he looked back on them in retrospect.

This day was sunnier than the one before, though. He noticed that.

Steve was curled up beside him, still asleep with his mouth slightly agape. Bucky felt calm when he looked at him, his heart lighter than it’d been in decades. That lightness terrified him, because it could be ripped away from him so easily and he would be left a bleeding mess on the ground. Broken. Alone. Again.

He sat up properly, his back against the headboard, and tried not to think. To keep his mind blank for just a couple of minutes. _Calm down, Barnes_.

Steve shifted a bit in his sleep and his knee brushed against Bucky’s leg in the process. Bucky looked at him again. He seemed so calm. Bucky wondered if he was as still when he slept, or if the nightmares he had each night made themselves known to the outside world. If they did Steve hadn’t commented on them, and Bucky was grateful for it. Acknowledging them would mean that Bucky either would have to talk about them, which he would never be ready to do, or that they would have to go on and pretend as if they weren’t happening while both of them clearly knew that wasn’t true. It was just better to not even mention them.

He brought his right hand, his only hand, to his tangled hair in an attempt to make it look more presentable as a memory filled his mind. They were both young, though they looked very similar to how they do now. Their faces didn’t look as tired and their eyes had a spark to them, but other than that they looked pretty much the same. Steve was smaller, of course, and Bucky had shorter hair and both his arms, but there was a sadness lingering around them that had never fully evaporated since. They couldn’t know how drastically their lives would change in just a few years, but it was as if they both knew that something was going to happen. Bucky had always wondered how they’d known that.

In the memory they were in Steve’s bed, much like they were right now, and they were both awake, but neither of them was speaking. Instead they watched the sun rise through the small window that lacked both blinds and curtains and was therefore the reason they could never get a proper amount of sleep during the warmer months. It was unusually sunny that March, almost as if the world also knew that things would be different in a year’s time. Steve’s leg was pressed against his, and together they sat there, watching, breathing, being.

Bucky was aware of how easy it would be to recreate the memory once Steve woke up, but he knew it wouldn’t be the same. They were too weary to be those guys now. They’d seen too much.

Maybe it didn’t really matter, though. Maybe they could be happy like this too.

The sunrays shone directly on them now, and when Steve stirred again Bucky wasn’t surprised to see that he opened his eyes as well. His gaze flew up to Bucky’s instantly, locking onto it as a small, almost nonexistent smile found his lips.

“Hey,” he said in that hoarse morning voice that had always done things to Bucky. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not too long,” Bucky assured him. “You were quick to follow.”

Steve scooted closer and reached out to tug at his elbow. “Lie down.”

Bucky obliged, because if there was one thing he remembered always loving it was just lying with Steve for as long as he was able to in the mornings all those decades ago. Their faces were close, but they weren’t touching, and Bucky could feel Steve’s every exhale on his skin. Could feel every single movement just as he was sure Steve could as well. It was terrifying being this close, but the safety he felt outweighed it. It always did.

Steve’s voice was low when he said, “It’s your birthday,” but Bucky heard him as clearly as if he’d been screaming.

“It is.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

“Never thought I’d make it this far.”

“Not even as a kid?”

Bucky had to let out a laugh. “No. Not even then.”

Steve leaned in so that their foreheads and noses collided and said, “Happy 100th birthday, James Buchanan Barnes.”

And when they kissed Bucky didn’t think being this old was so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my [tumblr](http://thesoundofnat.tumblr.com/)


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